Karen Rabbitt

Take No Good Thing for Granted

Creator-God, Father,

Today we would take no part of your good creation for granted. We thank you for lungs that absorb your oxygen and release our carbon dioxide. We thank you for hearts that keep up the rhythm for our pulsing blood. We thank you for bones that fortify us.

We are grateful today for green plants and blue sky, not to be taken as our due, but to be received as magnificent gift. Rice, potatoes, and cassava are your provision. We appreciate trees— cypress, sassafras, maple. We rest against their trunks, we drink their tea, we savor their sap.

You have set for us a mysterious world to explore. Neutrinos and quarks; cell nuclei and mitochondria; DNA, RNA, and the human genome. Light, both wave and particle. Is the variety of color infinite or does it just seem so?

Every piece of your work shouts your name. Had we ears to hear, the reverberations would split our eardrums. Today, we want to join that unheard song of praise. Thank you for listening.

A Sure Foundation

"That steel I-beam sure looks strong." My husband and I had just awakened this morning in the unfinished basement of my daughter's two-story house.

"It looks strong, but in a fire, wood would only char. That steel is like hard wax--it would melt. A beam of several pine 2x12s nailed and glued together would maintain its structural integrity, even in the flames."

"So even though the steel looks more stable, wood is better in a fire.

"Yup."

There's an image. What's our foundation made of? Do we look strong or are we really strong? Are we strong in ourselves or strong in the Lord? And how can we know, except in the fire?

Paul says, in 1Corinthians 3, there is one foundation--Jesus Christ. Maybe in our everyday lives, we're not so aware of our foundations. We manage a busy household, we perform well in a challenging job, and/or we get A's in graduate school.

But what happens when a child gets leukemia, a new boss fires us, or we sustain a closed-head injury?  Or even the lesser fires of the flu, a critical boss, or a bout of the blues?

What do we rest on then? What supports our weight in those flames? It's not our good looks. It is the surety of that Jesus-beam that undergirds us. He is the foundation that survives every fire. 

Lord, Isaiah 33:6 says you are "a sure foundation for our times." May we rest our weight on you.

The Mountains also Testify

"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." Romans 1:20

At my daughter's, almost every morning for the last three weeks, I've walked across the lawn and boulders of her back yard, opened the gate, and walked a path around a three hundred acre lake just to the east. Thirty miles west, Long's Peak, more than 14,000 feet, glows in the early light. Two evenly-matched smaller peaks--Twin Sisters--shore up the north side of the "fourteener." They are part of the front range that stretches for a hundred and seventy-five miles, as if anchoring not only Colorado, but all of America.

But I'm a water person, myself. The smell of the sea, the ceaseless roll of the waves, the endless view across the ocean speaks God's poetry. And yet, the mountains also testify.

"I am a rock," Long's Peak says, "like your God is a rock." Rocks endure. These high hills will give witness to the steadiness of the Godhead until the end.  Twenty years ago, I ascended another fourteener, Pike's Peak. The three jet fighters that roared round the rock below us accentuated the height, approaching three miles. The enormous stone formations at the foot--the Garden of the Gods--looked like some giant had arranged boulders in his backyard, like a gargantuan version of my daughter's landscaping. 

But we don't need to walk the beach or contemplate the heights to perceive God's character. We can open our own front door. The iridescence of a blackbird's neck, the yellow center of a daisy, the blue of a cloudless sky--they all reveal God's power and love. Indeed, we need look no further than the design of our own hand to sense his care. God has given great thought to the making of the earth and its inhabitants so that we can begin to discern his nature by his creation.

Creator-Father, open our eyes to see your character in your handiwork. 

Surprised by Grace

On May 8, I wrote about three extra pounds I needed to lose before I came out to Colorado for the birth of our first grandson.  I just knew I wouldn't be able to resist eating the cookies and chunks of nutty granola treats that had been a downfall on previous visits.

But guess what? God had a different plan.  I lost a pound before I got here and I've lost two pounds here. Who knew I could resist? I had it all figured out--what I needed. But, once again, God showed me his power and grace.

Don't we all have areas where we just know how it's going to be? We know what's going to happen, especially if we don't do what we need to do. If we don't apply for that job a week before the deadline, we can't possibly be hired. We think if we've smoked for fifty years, we'll never quit. Maybe eating is your issue, too, and you just know you'll go to the grave in the body size you are now. You've made your bed and you'll just have to lie in it, just like your Mother always said.

Turns out, though, Moms are not always right. Sometimes God's surprising grace overrides Moms and our own expectations to bless us with a new experience of him.

Holy Spirit, thank you for your fresh manifestation of grace. May every reader be surprised by your gracious power today.

Cherished Children

"He's adorable!" "Oh, how sweet!" "He's so cute!"

That's what we've been hearing a lot of around here as we admire our new grandboy, now just nine days old. Mom, Dad, and Grandma (that's me :)) keep touching his soft skin, chuckling at his funny faces, and rushing to pick him up at the first sign of fussiness.  As we meet his every need quickly and kindly, we are laying the foundations of his life.  I am so grateful that his parents are able to give him such a good start.

My foundations were roughly laid and missing a whole wall. Having little sense of how to help build a life, I screwed up my daughter's foundation. She, however, has worked hard to let God build his house in her heart. And she's now ready, by grace and with grace, to lay a solid footing for her son.

Many of us have been betrayed by those who should have responded to our needs. A father isn't there. A mother's attention is directed to an older sister. A grandfather takes advantage of us. No one told us we were sweet, cute, or adorable.

Except the God who calls himself Father, even Abba, Daddy. He thinks we're delightful. Fallen, broken, and yet, his cherished children.

Father, show us how to receive, again, or for the first time, your fathering.

Can You Hear Me?

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. John 10:27(NIV)

Do we know his voice? Some of us struggle to believe his voice is the one we are hearing. Often we believe what we’ve heard is just our own thoughts. How can we distinguish his words from media voices, parental words, Satan’s input, and our own ruminations? A friend recommended a helpful book, Can You Hear Me? by Brad Jersak.

Jersak, a Canadian pastor, writes clearly on hearing Jesus’ voice. He talks about the simplicity of listening, blocks to hearing, and the life of listening prayer. His simple instructions offer practical guidelines. For example, he describes listening through biblical stories by starting with picturing the details of a Bible story, after asking God to bring to mind one that is meaningful to you. After you imagine the characters and their behavior, he suggests, just in your imagination, to use your senses of touch, taste, sight, hearing, and smell to immerse yourself in the narrative. Then, see where Jesus is and what he’s doing. Finally, as you draw near to him, ask him what truth he wants to speak to you.

Following these instructions with the Mary and Martha story, I got a clear sense of a personal word. I was surprised, actually. I’ve often questioned whether I’m listening to his voice, but the sentence that came to me spoke directly to a current need.

As Jersak points out, this particular prayer strategy isn’t new, but he communicates it in a way I can grasp. In addition to this engagement with scripture stories, Jersak teaches other ways of hearing God. He also talks about intercession, justice, and inner healing, among other topics. If you, too, are hungry to hear the shepard’s voice, this book will feed you.

Father, Jesus, Holy Spirit, we want to hear and obey your voice.

Face to Face

The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.  Luke 22:61 (NIV)

What sort of look did Jesus give Peter when he heard Peter’s third denial? The answer we instinctively give to that question tells us a lot about our view of Jesus. Was Jesus’ brow knit above hard eyes? Was his intention punishment?

Was his mouth turned down? Was he shaking his head? Did Jesus mean to let Peter know just how disappointed he was in him?

I doubt he was either angry or sad. I think his eyes were soft, his face relaxed. Jesus had previously told Peter the truth about himself: “You will deny me.” Now, I think Jesus was both calling Peter to account and pouring forth his compassion.

Peter didn’t know his own weakness. Jesus knew. Peter’s denials were no surprise to Jesus. But it looks like they were a surprise to Peter, himself. The text gives the impression that Peter hadn’t quite realized what he’d done until Jesus looked at him.

And isn’t that how it is with us? Only when we get face to face with Jesus do we see our sin clearly. We can go blithely through our day, reacting to the people around us, not thinking much about eternal realities. And then God breaks in and we suddenly see what Jesus sees. We see the tired Walgreen’s clerk through Jesus’ compassionate eyes. We see our toddler’s frustration as a cry for attention rather than an intentional interruption to our reading. We see in our own hearts all the subtle ways we deny Jesus’ reality—in our small faith, our weak hope, our cold love.

Oh, Lord Jesus, may we once again, come face to face with you—your clear-sightedness and your compassion.

Content to be Discontent?

God honors boldness. In Luke 19, when Zacchaeus ran ahead of the crowd following Jesus to climb the sycamore tree, he expected to get a better view, not a better life. But Jesus, seeing his audacity, walked into Zacchaeus’ house and heart. Zacchaeus collected taxes for the Roman occupiers, keeping for himself whatever he could extort beyond the Roman levy. Like a Frenchman collaborating with the Nazis during WWII, he was ostracized. Jesus’ closeness convicted Zacchaeus of his separation from the community. He vowed to make restitution, thus opening the way to restoration. 

Zacchaeus was bold because he was discontent. He wanted something he could not get without a risky move. Are we discontent? Are we content to be discontent? Do we tolerate an unsatisfying job for fear of change? Do we go through the motions of Christianity without giving our hearts? Are we happy enough in our ministry? Is there a place where we want to see God’s power? How can we let our discontent move from crowd-following to risky faith? 

Makes me nervous just thinking about climbing a tree, alone, exposed. But if that boldness is what it takes for Jesus to come close… 

Father, send your bold Holy Spirit into our hearts, right now. Whatever boldness we exert comes from you.